


With Coworkers Like These...

by Malusdraco



Category: Ghost in the Shell (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 18:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16938237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malusdraco/pseuds/Malusdraco
Summary: ...Who needs enemies?It's Batou's birthday! Everyone decides to pitch in, hijinks ensue.old goofy thing I still really like, gotta start somewhere!





	With Coworkers Like These...

The doors slid back in front of her as Major Kusanagi stepped into the think-tank lab. A few technicians in starchy lab coats ambled around a docked tachikoma with a handful of sizable bullet-holes in its chassis. It took weeks of careful research and stakeouts to finally reach the conclusion of the mission they came back from yesterday. Team members wore satisfied grins but the tank attaché had been brutalized.

As usual the repairs were eagerly monitored by a semi-circle of other tachikomas that exchanged their usual chirpy babble amongst themselves. As Motoko approached the operation, the technicians looked up and stopped what they were doing.

“Major! Repairs are going smoothly. We got lucky this time, no processor damage, just some severed fuel and hydraulics lines. It should be fully functional in about a week.”

Kusanagi looked him in the eye and nodded, glancing back to the fist-sized holes in the tank’s exterior. The tachikomas had stopped talking for a second to acknowledge her, but picked up again almost immediately.

“Do you think he already has one?” a tank said.

“I don’t know! We could check his purchase history,” another responded

“The real question is would he even want one?”

“Yeah, are we thinking for him or for our imagined version of him?”

“Is there anything he needs? Perhaps some kind of maintenance gear?”

“Not your usual existential debates. Not even a mention of syncing experience.” Motoko interrupted.

The coterie of tanks quieted, sheepishly looking away and locking their arms together. With every day they acted more human, so much so they resembled guilty children.

“What’s going on?” Kusanagi curtly directed her question at a technician.

He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a tachikoma, “It’s Batou’s birthday in a few days! We wanted to show him our appreciation.”

It took a moment for her to process the information. As an idea calmly took a seat in her mind, Motoko’s stoic demeanor lifted to reveal a tiny smirk, “is it now?” Satisfied, and with a newfound spark, she strode away, waving a hand that signaled to carry on.

Her first destination was the break room.

She opened the door and watched Togusa, Saito, and Paz sit up in their seats. She took a few steps in and looked around to make sure Batou wasn’t there before she looked at them again and grinned. The men seemed to relax as she ambled over to the sofa and sat down on the back edge.

“What’s up, boss?” Togusa inquired, putting his cell down on the table and leaning back into his seat.

“I just found out that Batou’s birthday is soon and I think we should do something for it.”

“Really Major, why’d we do that?” Saito furrowed his brow and slightly tilted his head.

“It’s not like we’re office workers. What kind of anti-crime unit celebrates birthdays? We haven’t even done it before.” Togusa added.

“That’s the point,” Motoko chuckled, “He’d have no idea what’s happening.”

“I’m in,” Paz spoke up, a devious look on his face.

Saito sighed, “I don’t even know what I’d get him. He seems like he takes care of his own interests just fine.”

“Then get him something he doesn’t know he needs,” Paz replied, grinning wildly, “best reaction wins.”

“Wins what?” Togusa started.

“Wins,” Motoko said, getting up from her seat, “Ishikawa and Borma should still be tying up loose ends in the dive room right? I’ll go tell them.”

She walked over to the door and paused as it slid open “We’ve got until Friday. And -I shouldn’t have to say this but- don’t tell him.”

As she left the room to find the other two men, she spotted Batou at the end of the long corridor, coming out of another door. He waved cheerfully and jogged to meet her. Closer now, she could see a sweaty sheen on his face. Along with his jaunty step and glowing smile, she could tell he was coming from his usual workout. As she passed him she gave her sunniest smile. He hesitated for a bit but didn’t say anything as she continued walking. Truly her poker face was the best of the squad but sometimes she couldn’t help an exaggerated break of demeanor, especially if it meant fucking with Batou.

She briskly made her way down hallways and around corners and was soon in front of the dive room. The door opened and she walked in, soon bathed in the green underlight of the electronics. One station towards the back was occupied. Ishikawa sat in the chair, jacked into the headset as Borma sat next to him in an office chair he had pulled up. On closer inspection Borma was also hooked into the computer, serving as backup for Ishikawa. When the door closed behind her neither of them moved from their positions. She walked up. Only when she stood behind the two of them did Borma look to her. He unplugged and nudged Ishikawa to take the headset off.

“Turns out the nanomachine records were exactly as she said. Her story clears pretty well.” Borma reported.

Ishikawa took off the headset and rubbed his eyes for a bit before grunting an addition, “we were just looking at the remnants of the victim’s cyberbrain to try to put together the exact timeline for the official report.”

“Good, a clean case,” Kusanagi said.

“The report should be done in half an hour,” Ishikawa sighed.

After a pause the Major got to her point: “Did you know Batou’s birthday is on Friday?”

Borma’s wore an expression of incredulity as Ishikawa turned around in the seat to look her in the face, exhausted but mildly intrigued.

“The tachikomas have decided to do something for it and I think we should join in.” Kusanagi continued.

“You can’t mean you’re going to organize a party.” Ishikawa grumbled.

“No, I don’t. Just a little gift-giving,” Motoko smirked at what she was about to say and leaned back to put a hand on her chin for good measure, “best one wins.”

Borma chuckled amusedly, “oh so it’s a contest now is it?”

Ishikawa looked away, trying to hide a smile, “alright I’m in. Mission accepted.”

“I’ve already told the rest of the guys about this, feel free to discuss with them.” Motoko grinned and turned to see the chief standing in the middle of the room.

“I would ask what you’re up to if I didn’t already know. Just make sure to finish that report.” He said, “I’d like a status update if you two wouldn’t mind.”

Aramaki moved to take Kusanagi’s place behind Borma and Ishikawa as she walked out of the room.

Her plans were set.

——

Friday morning Batou walked into the building to find the reception area empty, save for a few clerical androids. He frowned but mentally wrote it off as they placidly greeted him good morning and went back to work.

As he passed them, he began to hear rustling. He turned around to see three androids arranging themselves into a line. Within a few seconds they stopped moving, seemingly at attention for something. Batou began to tense up, unsure of what to expect. He heard the small crunch of static as the intercom turned on and began to play the Macarena.

The androids moved in perfect sync, performing the entire dance routine as a group. After a few verses of the song, Batou eased up and stood looking somewhat defeated at the dancing androids. He stood there until the song ended. For a few seconds the androids held their poses before dissembling and going back to their positions at the desks.

“What the… hell?” he scratched his head, suddenly feeling somewhat out of place. Eventually he turned around and pushed through the main doors, now thoroughly distracted. As he was walking down the entry hall, the image of the Major’s out-of-character smile popped into his mind. He let out a resigned sigh, it was probably her idea of a joke.

He stopped and stood still again, in front of him in the middle of the hall lay a black chrome gun. Frowning, he knelt down to examine it. It was about the size of a pistol, but bigger than any used in standard practice. The shapes of the piece flowed into one another, very unlike the boxy standard-issue guns. The barrel came to a delicate point, more like a flintlock like anything else. He picked it up and fitted his hand into the grip. It was heavier than he was expecting but felt better than he could have hoped. On closer inspection it was definitely not a revolver. He pulled out the magazine to find it empty. But it was equipped to deal with bigger-than-normal bullets. He came to the conclusion that it was a semi-automatic pistol that was reinforced to be able to shoot beefier rounds. He grinned and thought of Togusa’s shitty Mateba as he stuck the gun in his belt. Somebody was fucking with him, that’s for sure, and at least some of his unit was in on it. He didn’t know what the hell was going on but at this rate he might as well play along.

He headed for the break room first.

On the way there, the only things occupying the halls were assistant androids. Batou looked past them, unable to contain a small smirk at the thought of another dance number. At last in front of the break room door he began expounding to the opening door “Nice job with that dance routine in the reception hall, and with this gun it feels like you’re expecting me to-”

The room was empty. He walked in and took a look around. Nothing was amiss until his eyes came to the table. Sitting on it was a black velvet box about the size of a coaster. Batou walked to the couch a vaulted over the back edge to sit right in front of the box. He gave it a quick scan with some of the more useful functions of his sleepless eye. Definitely not an explosive device, not an emp generator either. He sucked in through his teeth, gingerly picking up the box. Upon closer examination, he could see his name faintly embossed into the lid. He let his hands fall to his lap and emitted an exasperated groan. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t dangerous. He looked down again at the box and absentmindedly flipped the lid open. Inside, nestled in satin, was a shining gold wristwatch with a blue face. The seconds hand marched along in brilliant red.

A genuine smile dominated his face and he let out a barking laugh. The watch fit snug around his wrist. What a sweet gift! As if on cue, the familiar ping of a cyber-communication flared in his brain:

“Batou, meet us in the briefing room” rang the Major’s voice.

He jauntily jumped back over the couch and jogged out of the room, ready to receive whatever explanation the team was bound to give when he got there. He put on his best joyful face as the door slid open…

To another empty, silent room. The lights were on and the main screen black. The desks on each tiered level were devoid of the normal scatterings of briefing notes. His expression fell to genuine confusion as he scanned for some sort of sign. He spotted a figure with purple hair sat in the front row.

“Major? What’s going on here?” he clenched his fists and stomped over to the figure which stayed unmoving in response.

Closer now, the figure still didn’t move. He grabbed the back of the swiveling chair and wrenched it to face him. He was greeted by a cartoonish, plastic face with wide open mouth– a blow up doll? The purple wig it wore fell to the ground as Batou took a few staggering steps backward. His face heated up like a sword in a forge as he felt his chest clench into a battle-ready fist. Embarrassment quickly turned into anger.

“Is this your idea of a prank?” he shouted at the empty room before kicking over the chair and making a seething exit.

Back in the hall now, he walked to try to cool his stormy mind. His mental pleas for answers became desperate as anger turned into stressed confoundment. Before he knew it he was in front of the gym. He went in and was greeted by a fairly obvious new sight: a new model DevilRay work-out machine. Taped to the handlebars was a cartoonish cut-out drawing of himself (with a strained face), colored in with children’s markers. He felt the rest of his anger drain away as he stared blankly at the jolly setup. He walked up to the machine and put a hand on the handlebar. Gripping it, he turned around to survey the rest of the room. Sitting on his favorite machine was a cellophane-wrapped something with a piece of paper resting on top. He let go and let his hand trail down as he glided over to the item.

The note on top read in clear letters: “I thought you might like to use some nice whisky glasses for a change. -Togusa”

Was he behind all this? He examined the package. Sure enough, contained within the plastic sheath was a set of six nicely cut glasses.

Batou sighed, “he’s not smart enough to program the androids but this is, at least, for sure from him.”

It was too late before he noticed the hand grasping the gun in his belt. He turned around to see a small chrome android fleeing into the hall, gun in hand.

“For fuck’s sake!” he sprang into action, racing out the door into the hallway.

The robot was at the far end of the hall. He sprinted to catch up but when he rounded the corner caught just a glimpse of the glinting chrome as it disappeared into another corridor. The chase continued for a few more hallways before Batou began to wonder where the android would end up. It disappeared around another corner. He slowed to a jog as he realized the corridor was a dead end. The only room in that hall was the security office. Turning the corner he spotted the small form at the end of the hall, back to one of the few doors that swung outward. In one clawed hand, the gun stayed at its side.

“It’s time for you to give me some answers.” He said nonchalantly, somewhat out of breath as he walked closer to the robot.

It raised the gun to point it at his head.

“Hah! Good luck with an empty gun” Batou continued forward.

It flipped the safety and put a finger on the trigger.

“Really? What do you think you’re-” a thought cut him off– he forgot to check the chamber.

He heard the click of the trigger, the pop of an explosion and his vision turned to static.

He felt his knees hit the ground. As his body came slowly back to its senses he made out the sound of the door opening and the android dropping to the floor, no longer controlled. He took a few gasping breaths and finally noticed the bits of confetti floating gently down over his head.

“That was a little cruel Major-”

“Cruel? Coming from mr sex doll…”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, “you okay big guy?”

He looked up to see Togusa’s mildly concerned face. Dumbstruck, he made no reply. The Major came from the direction of the door and offered her hand. Behind her he could see the rest of the team shuffling out. Ishikawa was concerned with the android on the floor, he picked it up and took the gun from its hand. Batou took up Kusanagi’s offer and she brought him back up to standing.

“That was from me” she said, a twinge of guilt in her voice, “it’s a helper bot for the house! You put it in your apartment and it’ll clean up for you. Should work great for a bachelor like yourself.”

“It’s also uniquely hackable” Ishikawa cut in.

“We saw the whole thing from the security cameras,” Paz laughed.

“And the gun-?” Batou managed.

“Every man needs a firearm he can rely on, I thought you could use something special.” Borma chimed in from his spot, leaning on the wall.

“Before you ask, Paz did the blow-up doll,” Ishikawa said, standing up after making sure the helper-bot was righted.

“You piece of shit,” Batou tried to keep angry but had a hard time keeping himself from grinning. Paz looked directly at him and shrugged mischievously. “Who was responsible for the display in the lobby?”

“I had to learn three different new pieces of software within the space of 24 hours to do that so I hope you liked it” Ishikawa said smiling as he handed Batou his new gun.

“So that means you did the watch, Saito.”

The sniper nodded from the corner, “You’re a classy guy and could use a nice timepiece.”

“But why all these things?”

“Don’t you know” the Major interrupted, “It’s your day Batou.”

At that, the rest of the squad filed out. Batou collected himself, brushing off the confetti on his shoulders. He stopped “But wait, who did the exercise machine?”

Kusanagi froze and turned to him, studying his face for some sort of answer until her eyes widened the slightest bit as she came to her own conclusion. “It was the tachikomas,” she said, her face hardening into her usual imperturbable mask. He let out a strained whistle, if they had drawn that picture there were going to be issues. Back to normal business at section 9.

On his way out after a day’s work, Batou spotted Chief Aramaki coming towards him with something in his hands. He stopped in front of the exit door as the small man approached him.

“You have been an invaluable member of the team, Batou. Allow me to present to you this.” Aramaki handed him a bottle of wine before putting a hand in his pocket and losing the official demeanor, “Drink it or wait, it’s a twenty year vintage so it should be worth some money someday. Happy birthday Batou.”

As the chief ambled back to his office, Batou stood stock-still. He felt the air drain from him like a deflating balloon.

It was his birthday, wasn’t it?


End file.
